Everything Beautiful is Far Away
by BrookenLucas12
Summary: He sees the way they look at him and he knows what they're thinking. Something like this would have never happened under Nate's watch. Chuck-centric. CB.


**Author's Note: **This is really, really freaking dark. Like, I'm warning you… it's dark. But I have to say, the reviews I got for _Girl on the Wing _were so fantastic! Thank you guys so much! You're totally fueling my Gossip Girl obsession right now. Speaking of, here's my second Gossip Girl one-shot! This one I don't like as much as that one, but this idea has been bugging me and I sort of had to write it. I'm thinking I'm a BN shipper, but I definitely have a soft spot for CB, so I couldn't help this. I'm also in a really depressing mood, and that's usually when I do my writing. Heh!

**Spoilers: **I'd say, Hi-Society (1x10) and the rest is made up by moi.

**PS: **Gossip Girl is so awesome right now. I just hope Josh doesn't ruin this show, because I'm seriously in love with it. Expect possibly a few million more one-shots from me. Perhaps. Who knows. Enjoy and review, review, review!

* * *

**Everything Beautiful is Far Away**

Chuck Bass doesn't mind being second place in Blair Waldorf's life.

Really, he doesn't. He doesn't mind knowing that she's only with him because Nate had refused to stay with her after he found out about them. He doesn't mind knowing that she doesn't talk to him or touch him in public because she doesn't want anyone to know they are together. He doesn't mind that whenever he tells her he loves her, she sort of winces and won't meet his eyes as she says it back.

He won't let any of these things bother him because he knows, when they are alone in his warm, hotel room or in her princess-like bedroom, she'll kiss him just to kiss him, and she'll cuddle with him just to feel his arms around her.

He knows Blair Waldorf loves him in her own way, and even if it isn't like how she loved Nate or how she _should_ love him, he'll accept any kind of love he can get from her.

Chuck Bass doesn't mind being second place in Blair Waldorf's life, because the alternative -- not being _any_ place in her life -- is a fate much more cruel.

* * *

Blair tugs on Chuck's scarf when she wants him.

He's not sure if she does it in a subconscious manner or to simply be very subtle, (he never works up the courage to ask) but either way, she does it. Usually when they're in public, or sometimes at one of her mother's stuffy parties. And she'll simply pull on his scarf, fingering it as if she herself is wearing it. It's probably the most affectionate she ever gets with him, and he'd like to bask in her affection. He'd like to lace his fingers through hers and kiss them softly, but instead, he finds a way to pull her away from the crowd. Into a bathroom, or a bedroom, or sometimes a spare closet. He knows this is what she expects of him. She kisses him with force and passion, and he wonders if she kissed Nate like this. A part of him knows she did not. A part of him knows that when Nate and Blair slept together, it was perfect and sweet. He knows that she probably stared into his eyes with a longing she'd never long for him with, and it had probably been so intense, she'd always remember it as the first time she'd ever made love. It doesn't even matter though, because Nate does not want her and Chuck has her and he won't let her go no matter what.

Blair tugs, tugs, tugs at Chuck's scarf, and his heart flutters, flutters, flutters.

The scarf changes from time to time. Yellow to olive to maroon, while her fingers slide so easily over the material, so delicately dancing over the fabric.

He loves her most at these moments, and he knows she loves him too. He wishes they could walk down the streets with locked fingers and heads bent together, but he'll settle for this.

He'll settle for Blair simply wanting him.

* * *

It is Chuck that finally takes a stand and threatens to end things with Blair if she does not admit to them being a couple.

She rolls her doe eyes, her bare shoulders stiffening only slightly from beneath his Egyptian cotton (very, _very_ high thread count) sheets. "Do you always have to make everything such a big deal, Charles?"

He snorts, pulling away from her. She doesn't even seem mildly alarmed by this notion. She doesn't care, he realizes. He's _still_ her Nate replacement, and she enjoys the sex, but she doesn't love him like he loves her.

"You don't care," he says shortly. It's the truth and he knows it, but what surprises him is that he's just now realizing it; that he has to say it out loud to truly comprehend it.

"You care too much," she argues with a laugh. Sighing, she lifts herself into a sitting position. She reaches for her shiny emerald cellular phone ("It's green with _EN-V! _Get it? I think it's genius.") and reads a text message, smiling to herself as she does. This is her way of telling Chuck that she's over the conversation.

He isn't. "Blair, put your fucking cell phone down."

"Don't swear at me, Chuck." She continues to text, and he can't help himself. He leaps for her, grabbing the tiny entity that holds her entire life. He can't help himself again as he hurls it at the adjacent wall, watching it shatter into a thousand pieces.

He sees fire flash through her eyes as she rips the covers from her bare body. "How dare you," she pokes his chest firmly, thrusting her tiny, delicate fingers so harshly into him that it leaves a mark, "who the _fuck_ do you think you are?"

"Who the _fuck_ do you think _you_ are?" He retaliates, finally so fed up with her attitude that he takes a step towards her. God, if she didn't look so good naked, he'd storm out of here right now.

"I'm out of here." She takes one last defiant glance at what's left of her phone, and begins grabbing her things; her bra from the lamp, a shoe from underneath the rug.

"If you leave," he says when she reaches the door, "don't ever come back."

Blair stands there for a long while. Perhaps not too long, but it feels like an eternity to Chuck. His breath hitches in his throat as he watches her shake her head of unruly chocolate-colored curls.

And then she is gone.

He can't help but smirk at her hesitation.

For once, Chuck is completely, one hundred percent sure that Blair Waldorf cares about him.

* * *

She caves one glorious afternoon at school, unwillingly.

He's not sure if it's because Nate had his arm around some pretty blonde earlier, or because Dan and Serena are being particularly nauseating today, but at some point during lunch, she stops pushing her food around her plate, neatly releasing her fork down onto a napkin. She turns to look at him, _really_ look at him. His palms begin to sweat as Blair begins to lower her lips to his.

He feels ecstasy, no, euphoria! He feels like he's flying over a rainbow and Blair is right there beside him.

He tries not to feel smug as she links their fingers together loosely when he walks her to fifth.

He tries to ignore Nate's look of betrayal, Serena's of distrust and disgust. He chooses instead to focus on Blair, her lips red from where his were on hers and her eyes glinting with delight.

"I love you," he tells her softly in her ear, and her body doesn't become rigid. Not even a little.

* * *

They are still dating when high school finally ends and no one can believe it, and still, no one approves.

Gossip Girl is always talking about what a screwed up relationship they have, and if he knew who the bitch actually was, he'd probably get her assassinated.

The world does not know it, but he and Blair are perfect. Well, he's never seen perfect before, but they're _pretty_ damn close. She calls him baby and sometimes she'll tell him she loves him first. She kisses his neck, and he sucks on hers, and they attend events hickey-covered and giggly and he gets her drunk and she laughs with glee he never knew she had beneath her perfect, glossy surface.

People frown and turn up their noses, but they're in love, and they don't care.

In fact, Blair doesn't seem to care about very much these days. Opinions don't really bother her at all anymore. It's strange, but he enjoys her this way, so he is sure to keep his observations to himself.

Big mistake.

* * *

"I'm not happy," she keeps saying. Over and over, this is all she tells him.

And it's getting to the point where he doesn't care. He wants her to suffer because she wants him to suffer. She lounges around, unhappily and teasingly. Sometimes when they argue, she'll say, "Nate would never say something like that to me!" And he'll retort, "God, when will you ever get _over_ that guy? He doesn't want you! Get that through your thick head!"

He loves her and he hates her, but sometimes he thinks she just hates him.

"Stop complaining. I give you everything you want." He tells her one day as she lays on their bed, glaring at the rock on her finger. He likes that they're married because he knows she can't run out on him without consequence. She's trapped by him, but he doesn't care because her encasement is his greatest victory.

"I'm unhappy, Chuck." She says it so painfully that for a moment his heart breaks for her. Why? He wants to say. Why can't I ever be enough for you?

"I just don't understand," is all he can say without breaking down right there. He zips up his briefcase, pulls on his jacket. Weather report says it might snow today.

She laughs slowly, her eyes flickering over to the bottle of vodka on her bedside table. "I guess not."

"I love you, Blair," he tells her, and he leaves, because he's not expecting a response anyway.

* * *

He comes home one afternoon, covered in snow. He can't help but chuckle at his appearance in the mirror. He's so old, so mature. Thirty years old and married with a stable job. Chuck Bass? Who would have ever thought?

Something is off when he enters the penthouse. He realizes this when he hears no sign of Blair.

The faucet in the bathroom drips. He needs to get that fixed.

"Blair?" He calls out, looking around the foyer, then the large living room.

No note saying she went shopping with Serena, nothing about a charity event she's planning.

Drip, drip, drip.

"Blair?"

The bed is made, the vodka bottle missing.

Drip, drip.

"Damn faucet." He growls, stomping off towards the kitchen. He's been in here maybe twice, and he rips through every drawer like a tornado in search of a wrench. He's not sure what he'll do with it, but he'll unhook the damn faucet if he has to.

Drip, drip.

He nears the bathroom door and the tears are already forming in his eyes because he knows. He _knows_.

He stands before the door, so large it makes him look tiny, and he takes a breath so big it takes him a minute to blow out all the air. He pushes it open and instantly falls to his knees at the sight before him.

All that he can see of her is her hand, fingernails painted red and fingers themselves so colorless he can't imagine what the rest of her must look like. The faucet drips into the full tub, her body beneath the surface, asphyxiated by the innocent water, unaware of its victim. He stumbles towards the tub, pulling her up.

She is the most gorgeous person he's ever seen; even death cannot take her beauty from her.

He holds her naked body to his and weeps into her hair. She's so cold and so stiff, and in a way it's ironic, because she was just like this in life too.

Chuck wishes he could go back in time. Could have found a way to make her happy. This is _his_ fault, and he'll never forgive himself.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he sobs, holding her so tightly he hopes he'll join her in suicide.

But he's no Romeo, no Juliet. He's Chuck Bass, selfish asshole.

He's killed Blair Waldorf just by being, and everything is his fault.

* * *

He sees the way they look at him, and he knows what they're thinking: Something like this would have never happened under Nate's watch.

Her funeral is so Blair-esque, it's like she planned it herself. But _he_ planned it. He wishes someone would take the time to realize how much effort he's put forth, but when Serena throws her arms around him and _does_, he doesn't feel the slightest bit better. In fact, he'd like to ask her to leave. She's too happy for funerals, even dressed in black with her hair pulled back and tears streaming down her face.

Nate attends, albeit secretly. Chuck sees him far off in the distance, with a look that he can recognize so easily as regret, even from so far away.

He rubs his eyes. He's so tired.

Everyone talks about Blair, and no one mentions suicide as the cause of her death, and this is all because of him, and he doesn't know what to do anymore.

She tugged at his scarf when she wanted him, and now she never will again.

He approaches Nate with his head hung low and his tail between his legs and they cry and get drunk together.

It is with Nate that he can admit how he feels because it is Nate who feels what he feels.

He loses Blair and he finds Nate, and he doesn't understand why he can't have both.

* * *

Chuck Bass never minded being second place in Blair Waldorf's life.

Whether it was with Nate or alcohol or parties or Serena… he'd take whatever she'd give him.

He sits at her grave, flowers in every color and kind in his gloved hands. The sullen darkness of the graveyard makes him shiver, and he can't help but think Blair would have hated it here. Or worse, would have scolded him for wasting his time coming here.

"I miss you," He laughs, even though nothing's funny. "And I'm sorry I didn't make you as happy as I should have. I guess… when I figured you loved me, I took it for granted. Exactly like Nathaniel did. You weren't meant to be taken for granted."

He can see her sitting before him, smirking. 'Well, duh,' she'd say if she could speak.

He remembers giving her that diamond necklace. He remembers the words he'd uttered as he clasped it around her neck. "Something so beautiful deserves to be worn by someone worthy of its beauty." He was never worthy of her, and he was well aware, but perhaps a part of her did not realize this. Then again, perhaps she did, and this was why she never cared.

The wind rustles around him, and he realizes now he's been hoping for some response from her. This is absolutely ridiculous, because dead people don't respond to petty apologies.

Blair Waldorf is dead and that's that.

Chuck Bass never minded being second place in Blair Waldorf's life, because the alternative -- not being _any_ place in her life -- was a fate much more cruel.

God, he hates irony.


End file.
